


Did He Hear A Goodbye?

by nerdbird26



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Annihilation AU, Body Horror, F/F, Gore, M/M, Mutilation, Psychological Horror, Science Fiction, Weird Biology, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdbird26/pseuds/nerdbird26
Summary: Or even hello?Michael, Gavin, Ryan, Jeremy, and Jack venture into uncharted territory. Sent to uncover mysteries of an unexplainable area covered with a “shimmer” and return with new found information.Ifthey return.





	1. The Downward Spiral

**Author's Note:**

> This au is inspired by the film “Annihilation.” The some parts of the movie are not exactly the same as in my writing. Spoiler warning for the movie (which you should definitely go watch.)

Michael rhythmically ran the paint roller on the navy blue wall, replacing it with a fresh white layer of paint. The smell was intoxicating as it filled the room. His hands never hesitated or skipped a beat as they worked. If they kept working, it at least kept his mind at rest. He didn’t need to be reminded of what he has lost. And for a split second, he paused, and cringed at himself for letting the thought slip into his head.

He noticed that his hands seemed to be shaking as they moved. He shouldn’t have thought of it. But it was almost as if the thoughts were creeping in on him, getting louder. Almost as if they were right next to him, whispering in his ear. They were so loud.

But he realized then.

He realized they weren’t thoughts. They were noises. They were _here_. Michael’s hands stopped altogether. He turned his body toward the doorway of his once-shared bedroom. He jumped back, startled to see a figure standing there. Then he recognized it. The roller dropped to the floor, splattering paint at his feet. He swore under his breath.

“Oh god.” He whispered. “Oh my fucking god.” He lunged forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. He felt his own heart beating in his chest, an echo drumming in his ears. He embraced the figure in the doorway, his hands feeling the shirt’s fabric, the person’s hair, to make sure it was really there.

“Lindsay, oh god. I thought you were gone. They told me they couldn’t find you. They told me- oh, god.” He’s sobbing into her shoulder. His arms are squeezing her body as close to his as humanly possible. Lindsay’s arms, however, stay glued to her sides. Michael let go of the embrace, still holding his wife’s face in his trembling hands. His face expressed a wide smile and teary eyes. His smile then faltered when he saw that Lindsay’s face didn’t mirror the same reaction. Rather, it showed no reaction at all.

———

Lindsay sat at the small dining room table, a glass of water placed in the middle. Michael leaned his back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. Everything about him screamed frustration and anger, almost disappointment. Like a mother chastising a child. But his head swarmed with confusion instead.

“Where were all this time? Twelve months! Twelve months and nothing. I called the families of every member of your team. I contacted everyone I could. They knew as much as me.”

Lindsay had no response. She stared at her folded hands on the table. She seemed to be in deep concentration.

“Where were you?” Michael asked again. “Where was your unit sent off to?”

“I don’t know.” Lindsay’s voice was monotone.

“What do you mean you don’t know? What was it like? What were the people there like? Did you or your unit at least know where you were going before you got there?” Michael was becoming restless now.

“I don’t... remember.”

“Well, can you at least tell me how you get here? Please? I need some sort of explanation!”

“I was... outside. Outside the door. And... I saw you.” She paused, searching for the right words. “The door was open. I recognized you.”

Michael moved away from the counter and sat across from Lindsay. He reached out his hand. Lindsay didn’t seem to understand at first, but then placed her hand on his open palm. Her skin was rough and almost plastic-like, but maybe Michael was just distracted. Her eyes still wore a glassy, expressionless shield.

She pulled her hand away from his and reached for the glass of water. She took a single sip and gulped loudly, then set the glass back down. A sharp contrast of color in the water startled Michael. A single splash of red drifted in the clear liquid.

“I don’t feel very well.”

———

Sirens howled down the dark highway as the ambulance speeded toward the hospital. A paramedic on one side of the stretcher spoke urgently into his radio.

“Female, twenty nine, in seizure. Husband reports confused state. Possible concussion, but no sign of head wound.”

Lindsay, strapped down, was violently shaking, her eyes rolled back. Blood gushed from her mouth. On the other side of her, Michael squeezed her hand. He attempted to hold onto her head, but failed as she continued to convulse.

“C’mon, baby. Stay with me. Everything is gonna be fine. We’re gonna get there, I promise.” He cooed, his voice trembling as he stroked her arm.

Michael’s comforting words, along with the paramedic’s urgent messages through his radio, were then interrupted by a chorus of unfamiliar sirens.

“Did you call for a police escort?” The paramedic questioned.

“Those aren’t police!” The ambulance driver exclaimed.

In an instant, several black vans surround the ambulance, forcing the vehicle to stop. The ambulance doors were swung open, revealing a team of uniformed men holding heavy weapons. Michael, confused and panicked, was pulled out of the vehicle along with the paramedic. More men pile into the back doors and drag out the stretcher, Lindsay still locked in.

Michael started to protest, struggling out of the armed men’s grasps. For an instant, he was free from them and started rushing toward one of the vans where Lindsay, still heaving up blood, was being loaded up to. He began to call out her name, before something sharp entered his neck. His vision became blurry, and his legs turned to putty. Before he could fall to the hard pavement, a pair of heavy arms grabbed him. An empty syringe layed at his feet. The whole world around him began to fade.

Then he was gone.


	2. The Southern Reach

The room was dim, blank, and bare. Like a large prison cell. On one wall, a glass sliding door. Opposite that, a bathroom. Michael woke up, drowsy and sick, in a small bed. He was dressed in a long sleeved white shirt underneath an orange button up. His glasses layed on a bedside table. He put them on and observed his now clear surroundings.

A sudden sickness pounded on his stomach, threatening to make its way upward. Michael trembled towards the bathroom and kneeled down in front of the toilet. He heaved into the bowl, a putrid, metal-tasting substance coating his mouth. He coughed and spat, furiously trying to eject every last bit of bile from his body.

Suddenly, the sound of the sliding door opening brought Michael out of his sick daze. He pushed himself away from the toilet to get a look at the person who entered the room. He was tall, well-built, had a heavy beard, and wore a suit. His glasses were perched on the tip of his nose. The door closed behind him. He smiled at Michael, not friendly or welcoming, rather, almost intrigued. Michael did not return the smile.

“You must be feeling dreadful.” The man spoke, his deep voice stotic. He walked towards him. “It’s a hangover from the sedative they gave you.” He placed a careful hand on his back and beckoned him towards a chair in the center of the room. Michael flinched at the touch and hesitated to move forward, but complied a moment later.

“Who are you?” Michael asked in a puzzled, yet frustrated voice. The man didn’t respond, rather, he handed him a bottle of water. He reluctantly took it, opened the bottle, and took a sip.

“My name is Dr. Jack Pattillo. I’m a psychiatrist.”

Michael rolled the water bottle in his hands, thinking. “Why am I talking to a psychiatrist? Am I in a psychiatric hospital?”

“No.” The doctor unfolded a piece of paper that Michael hadn’t noticed before. His eyes scanned over it. “You’re wife is a biologist.”

“What about it? Where is she? Where am _I_?”

Dr. Pattillo ignored the questions. “You completed a doctorate at Johns Hopkins for botany. And a minor in biology.” His tone in the last sentence shifted to impressed.

“Where is my wife? I’m not asking again.” Michael fumed, dropping the bottle with a harsh crash. Jack didn’t flinch, not even blink.

“I’d like to talk to you about her. When did she arrive home?”

“I want to see a lawyer.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Mr. Jones.” For the first time, Jack moved his eyes away from the paper to look at Michael. “What can you tell me about her?”

“She... she didn’t say much.” Michael muttered. “I asked. She didn’t seem to remember anything.” He shuddered, remembering the glazed look in Lindsay’s eyes. The plastic feel of her skin.

“Did she say where she was going before she left?”

“No, I never asked. I just assumed it was another research or investigation project with her unit.”

“You sent frequent requests for information about her unit for six months. Then you stopped.”

Silence saturated the room. It took a moment for Michael to regain himself. “I thought I’d lost her. Twelve whole months of nothing. Six months into it I just thought that I had to, y’know, move on.”

“It’s not easy to move on.” The doctor wandered closer to the door. “You’re wife is in the building.” Michael sat up straight at the mention of this. “She’s in critical condition. Organ failure after organ failure. Keeping her alive has been a challenge.”

“Please, you have to let me see her. Please!” Michael stormed, getting up from his chair.

The sliding glass door opened, revealing an armed security guard. Jack folded the paper and tucked it under his arm. “I’ll come back in a moment. For the time being, rest. You need it. Then you’ll be able to see your wife.” He glanced at Michael, then left the room. The door shut behind him, leaving Michael alone once again.

Michael didn’t sleep. He still wasn’t entirely sure where he was, or why he was here, or what happened to Lindsay. He refused to sleep, his mind too bewildered by the last hours to rest. He sat at the edge of the bed, staring out the glass wall separating him from the rest of the strange building. He let his eyelids fall halfway down his eyes, not completely closed. After a while, his vision seemed to get blurry, perhaps another side effect of the sedative. He nearly let his dizziness take over him and shut his eyes, but was then awoken by the sudden sliding of the glass door. There stood Dr. Pattillo again, two security guards by his side. He stared at Michael, not speaking, only nodding his head toward the exit as a sign to get up. Michael stood up immediately and followed him out.

“Am I going to see my wife now?” Michael huffed as he briskly walked along side the doctor, the two guards right in their tails.

“Not right now. I need to show you something first.” Jack spoke, leading the group to a balcony.

“Wait a minute,” Michael stopped in his tracks. The guards behind him urged him to keep moving, but the doctor simply stopped as well and turned to him, giving Michael his upmost attention. “I don’t know what kind of stunt your pulling,but I don’t want to be a part of it. I just want to go home with my wife, that’s it.”

The bearded man only smiled. Not a condescending smirk, but almost a pitiful grin. It beckoned Michael, causing him to continue following Jack to the balcony. He was about to ask the doctor another question about what the hell was going on, but all words escaped him at that moment. Michael wandered over to the edge of the balcony, placing his hands on the railing as a mode of support to keep him from falling back.

In the distance stood a thick, lively forest. Surrounding the forest was a... wall? Or a trick of the eye? Maybe a permanent wall of rain, light reflecting off of it to form a rainbow. Or even a force field of blazing fire. Like the surface of a bubble. The air around them seemed to be filled with static. A thunderous sizzling filled their ears.

Jack turned to the two guards, signaling them to leave. Once the two men were alone on the balcony, Jack spoke.

“A religious event? An extraterrestrial event? We have many theories, few facts.” Jack skimmed through papers on a clipboard. “It started around three years ago. The nearby park reported that the light house was surrounded by a... ‘shimmer’. One of the wardens went in to investigate, but never returned. The event was classified. Since then, we’ve sent in drones, animals, teams of people, but nothing comes back. And it’s growing, expanding. In a few month, the shimmer will have grown to where we are now, and it’ll keep growing.”

“You said nothing comes back. But something... someone did.” Michael remarked, still staring at the fluorescent barrier.

———

A breathing tube was attached to her mouth. Several tubes and wires connected her to complex machines, each with their own purpose and function in keeping Lindsay alive. The area around her eyes were puffy and red. Her face was a sickening blueish-green hue. Lifeless. But still alive.

“She’s dying.”

“Yes.” Jack agreed solemnly. A silence passed between the two. “We need to come to an agreement about what to do with you.”

Michael turned towards him. “You’re not gonna let me go home.” It wasn’t a question. Whatever this place, they were not going to let him go with what he’d just seen.

Jack met his eyes, sympathetic. “Is that what you want? To go home?”

“No,” Michael looked back at his wife in bed. “I want to be with her.”


	3. The Lads and a Gent

Michael’s hands rested on the railing of the balcony. He gazed at the shimmering wall, watching as it shifted and swirled in its hypnotic pattern. It seemed almost alarming that everyone around him was sitting down at picnic tables, having drinks, and talking, oblivious. Michael felt lonely, like he was the only person here who could see the impending doom inching towards them. The cool night breeze wasn't the only thing making him shiver.

Michael was so distracted with his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the man standing next to him. He was notably taller than him, had a not fully grown beard, and wore a t-shirt and cap, even in the chilly weather. He had a smile on his face, welcoming and warm, but maybe menacing if you looked hard enough.

"Hi."

"Um, hey." Great introduction.

"Am I intruding?"

"No, not at all."

"Oh, good. Phew." The man jokingly swept his hand across his forehead. "Y'know I just saw you standing here alone and I'm guessing you probably felt weird or... awkward."

"Somewhat, I guess." Awkward didn't even scratch the surface on how he was feeling.

"Don't. Seriously, don't." The man assured, grinning. "The people here are a lot weirder than you can imagine. Not to scare you or anything, but having to look at _that_ ," he pointed at the shimmering wall in the distance, "and knowing it's coming closer every second kinda drives you mad." Even though the statement was a terrifying warning of what may come, Michael couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm Ryan."

"Michael." He shook Ryan's hand.

"Hey, why don't you meet my crew. Make new friends." Ryan suggested. They walked over to a picnic table with two people.

"Boys, this is Michael. Michael, this is Gavin and Jeremy." Both men shook his hand and introduced themselves. Before Michael had even approached the table, he had thought one of the men looked oddly familiar. But, when the man named Gavin opened his mouth and out came a thick British accent, it hit him.

"Wait a minute, Gavin? As in Gavin Free? From John Hopkins?" Michael queried. Gavin's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Michael bloody Jones?!" Gavin stood up and pulled Michael into a close embrace. Michael returned the hug, burying his face into Gavin's shoulder. "God dammit boy, I thought I'd never see your stupid face again!"

"Oh, _my stupid face?_ Says the guy who got himself kicked out when he nearly blew up the school with his 'genius invention'. Meteorology vs. botany argument aside, you hooked up your home-made solar panels directly into the generator and ended up cutting off the power to three whole floors!

"Oh, haha," Gavin fake laughed. "I forgot how much of a prick you are, you Jersey bastard."

"Hey, I don't mean to spoil a beautiful reunion, but Ryan and I are kinda feeling like third and fourth wheels here." Jeremy mused. At last, Michael and Gavin stopped reminiscing/bickering and sat down. Ryan opened a beer bottle against the table and handed it to Michael. He took a sip, letting the smallest amount of alcohol to sooth his nerves. He was glad to have an old friend back, plus two new friends. 

"So what happened to you after you got kicked out, Gav?"

"Well, coincidentally, a month after I left John Hopkins, Southern Reach was starting to do its thing. They were looking for scientists and I was out of a job, so I ended up here. I've been using my meteorologist magic to figure out what the hell that shimmer is, but results are still...odd. We're still working on it."

"And I've been here...ten months? Engineer, top of my class." Ryan stated. "Hard time getting a good job, though, considering my history of...anti-social tendencies, to put it lightly. I got into Southern Reach pretty easily though. The people here are desperate for answers, they're getting everyone they can on this case."

"Only two months." Jeremy chimed in. "I'm a geneticist. Ryan and I have known each other for a bit, so he called me over to give it a shot."

"Y'know, Michael, if our time at Hopkins hadn't been so abruptly cut off by scientific mishaps, I would have gladly grown closer to you and asked you to join this hell hole with me. Can't you imagine, you and me bickering over coffee with this great view." Gavin signaled towards to kaleidoscope wall.

"God, he sees you for five minutes and is already hitting on you. Do you do this with everyone you meet?" Ryan quipped.

"Ah c'mon! I think under the circumstances I'm allowed to roll the dice when I can." Gavin nagged.

An unsettling feeling suddenly crept up on Michael. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "What circumstances?" The table fell silent. Everyone remained with their bottles in their hands, avoiding eye contact.

"As crazy as it seems-" Gavin started.

"As crazy as it _is_." Jeremy continued.

"We are headed that way." Ryan finished, gesturing once again to the shimmer.

"There? All three of you?" Michael questioned.

"Four, actually." Jeremy corrected. "Jack. Team leader."

"Dr. Pattillo?"

"Yup, most of the teams sent there have been military. They've decided to make the next group scientists, which is us." Gavin said.

"What do you think happened to them?" Michael asked.

"Well, there are two theories." Ryan disclosed. "One: something kills them. Two: they go crazy and kill each other."

"There was one that got out. A woman." Gavin added. "They haven't gotten any information out of her. The state she's in is terrible. She might not make it, then we may never know what's in there." The entire table collapsed again into an eerie silence.

———

"You want to do what?"

"I want to go into the shimmer. With you and Ryan, Jeremy, and Gavin."

Jack, who was sitting in his desk chair away from Michael, turned towards him. His face was cluttered with disbelief, confusion, and pity. "So that's why you didn't tell them about your connection to Lindsay? To avoid complicating things."

Michael nodded.

"What type of things would it complicate?"

Michael didn't answer, partly because he felt like Jack didn't need to know, but also because Michael hardly knew the answer himself. "Why are you going into the shimmer?"

Jack observed his computer screen which projected a map of the infected area. "The mission statement is to go into the shimmer, reach the lighthouse, and leave with data."

"But what's _your_ mission statement?"

"Ever since Southern Reach started investigating this, I've been behind this desk. Picking teams to go in. Watching and waiting. Looking at this damn map grow till it reaches right where I'm sitting." He paused, and Michael noticed he was quivering. "I'm tired of waiting, I need to go see it for myself."

"So do I. I can't do anything to save her if I wait here."

Jack looked up at him and smiled. It was satisfied and proud. “We go in tomorrow, we’ll have your equipment ready for you, Mr. Jones.”


	4. Into the Shimmer

Five pairs of heavy boots marched towards the glistening barrier. The grass at their feet was dying, turning brown, and unkept. The air was damp and seemed to sizzle with electricity. The heat in the air, plus the last minute nerves, was making Michael sweat in his tan uniform as he and his team drew closer to the shimmer. He had a bulky backpack filled with supplies and a rifle in his hands. The walk towards the shimmer was quiet amongst the group, the only sound being the distant roaring of helicopters above them.

Before Michael had prepared for the mission, he had visited Lindsay. She was in the same state he had seen her in before, in bed, covered in needles and tubes, hooked up to several machines. He had snuck into her room while the guard was asleep and said his goodbye. He kissed her forehead, pleaded for forgiveness if he didn't return, and left. Now, as he advanced closer to the shimmer, he began to wonder if he would be able to leave. Jack had told him that none of the prior groups had returned, the only survivor being Lindsay. He wondered if he would die in there, and how Lindsay would go on if she were to wake up at some point. Maybe there was some sort of destiny. Maybe some God above would pity him and let him live, and he and his wife would live happily ever after. Or maybe he would die a gruesome death and his wife would have to bear the suffering. Maybe he could turn around now, throw down his backpack and gun and give up, and go back to his wife's side. But what good would that do. Besides, it was already to late.

He was already here.

They were mere feet away from the shimmer. They could see their own distorted reflections in the surface. The five seemed to be caught in a sort of hypnotic state. Then, Jack walked forward, the tip of his boot nearly grazing the shimmer. He looked back at the remaining four, and he smiled. The group looked around at each other. Ryan, on the farthest right side of the group, shrugged, and walked forward as well. Gavin followed, then Jeremy, and lastly, Michael. All five members stepped through to the other side of the barrier. There was no world-changing feeling when passing through the shimmer. There was only a small whisper, like a sudden gust of wind, to signal any sort of change. They were greeted by a thicket of trees and bushes, but nothing around them was noteworthy or even different.

Once every member had gone through, they looked at each other once more and kept walking deeper into the forest.

———

A single ray of sunlight slipped between an opening of Michael's tent, pouring onto his sleeping face. He blinked. Then again. He lifted his head, still drowsy. Then, in a sudden realization, he whirled his head around. He was laying in a sleeping bag inside a tent, and was still wearing his tan uniform from when he first entered the shimmer. His body suddenly ached as he remembered where he was. Michael kicked the blankets off himself and unzipped his tent. He was greeted with a view of dense forestry. The bushes and leaves were a lush green. Everything seemed to be breathing with life. Even the light, which was glowing a whole array of varied colors, was almost alive.

The surroundings, though peaceful and bewitching, were unfamiliar. It brought Michael into a sort of panic, for he did not remember of where he was, or even how he got here. He didn't even know where the rest of his crew was. He grabbed his gun from the tent and wandered around the miniature clearing around him. A sudden collection of hushed voices made him stop in his tracks. He inched closer to the voices, and then relaxed as soon as he recognized them.

"Look who's decided to join us." Gavin said, kneeling on the ground in front of a pile of food packs they had brought for the trip. Ryan was standing over him. Jeremy was huddled in his tent, inspecting some recording devices. Jack was leaning against a tree, observing a camera in his hands.

"I-I think I need a second. I'm a little disoriented." Michael stammered, scanning the surroundings.

"Join the club." Jack chimed in.

"You don't remember setting up camp, do you?" Ryan inquired.

"I don't remember anything that's happened after we reached the tree line." Michael admitted.

"None of us do." Gavin assured. "We did a food inventory. From the depletion, it seems we've been out here for... three or four days.

"That's not possible!"

"That's what I said." Ryan remarked.

Jeremy then stood up from his spot in his tent and joined the other three, device in hand. "Guys, I've been checking my navigation equipment. They work just fine, no problems with the electronics and the camera is working, but... anything that sends a signal out of the shimmer is down, even though we've got about twenty satellites surrounding us right now. And check this out," Jeremy pulled out a compass from his pocket. The needle was spiraling out of control. "So we've got no compass, no coms, no coordinates, and no landmarks."

"Well, we know we're in the state park. We just head south until we reach the ocean and then we'll follow the shoreline till we hit the perimeter wall. Right?" Gavin proposed.

"Good, we're oriented. We weren't really expecting the coms to work anyways. Three years of expedition and three years of radio silence." Jack pointed out while adjusting his glasses. "Let's pack up and get moving. We've already lost a lot of time."

The group collected their equipment and gear, carried their stuff on their backs, and trudged deeper into the dense forest. The environment was damp and warm, but still normal. As the group wandered more into the wilderness, they started to notice small oddities. Michael, being the botanist, noticed that certain trees had leaves and flowers that shouldn't be growing there. Every once in a while he'd spot a bug he didn't recognize, or a flower that seemed out of place. When he did, he'd take out a small note pad from his pocket and scribble a few notes.

After some time of traveling, the five stumbled upon an abandoned cottage adjacent to a swamp. The small house was blanketed in thick vines and moss. There was a shed or garage like structure across the building containing some overturned boats. The group dropped their bags into the shed to rest their backs. Michael, Jack, and Jeremy stepped onto a bridge that connected them to the cottage. The railing was wrapped in vines and flowers, all a variety of colors and sizes. Michael gently held one in his hand.

"These are so strange." He commented.

"Why's that?" Jack wondered.

"Well, they're all so different. If you looked at them you wouldn't say that they're the same species, but they have to be the same species. They're growing from the same branch structure." Michael plucked the flower and inspected it. It was fully bloomed, a vibrant purple with spots of blue. Jeremy passed by him and walked further along the bridge. He stood in the open doorway for a moment, then stepped inside. Ryan rummaged around in the shed and flipped one of the boats over.

"Jackpot! Guys, check it out. Mode of transportation."

Jeremy appeared once again in the doorway of the cottage. "Anything in there?" Jack asked.

"No. It's been long abandoned. Maybe even before-" In that instant, before Jeremy could get his last words out, something from within the cottage had yanked him back inside.

"Jeremy?" Michael looked up at the doorway, and when he didn't see Jeremy there, he stood up. "Jeremy!" He bolted into the house, the rest following shortly behind. The inside of the cottage was flooded with water, and inside was a struggling Jeremy and whatever grabbed him.

"It's got my back!" Jeremy cried. "Something's got m-" He was cut off as he was dragged further into the water. Ryan was the first to dive. He splashed in the water until he got hold of the other man. He gripped Jeremy's arm and struggled to drag him back to dry land. Michael and Gavin followed suit to help Ryan. The three men were able to lug the soaking and distressed Jeremy back to the bridge and helped him walk across to the shed. Jeremy sat down on the grass, catching his breath. Ryan knelt down in front of him, holding his hand out to Jeremy's chest, helping him regulate his breathing. As the group attempted to relax from the ordeal and ask Jeremy questions about what had grabbed him, a sharp bang came from the cottage.

A bizarre creature had clambered out of the flooded house. It's shape was similar to that of an alligator, with a long body and four short legs. However, its color was a muted aqua blue with patches of orange. Its eyes were pale and glossy. The noise it emanated resembled that of a snoring person. The creature jumped into the outside water. The ripples in the water drew closer to the shore. Four of the group members aimed their guns at the animal. Ryan stood guard of the still frightened Jeremy. The creature climbed up to the shore and gave out a guttural roar, baring its rows of jagged teeth.

Ryan was the first to fire. The bullets seemed to do no damage against the animal's scales. The animal charged at him. Ryan backed himself further into the boat shed. Michael, who was left of the shed, shot at the creature, hitting it directly in this eye. The creature cried out and directed its aggression at Michael. He continued to fire into the animal's gaping mouth, and soon enough, the monster fell. Its body went limp on the grass and blood pooled from its jaw.

After everyone was able to catch their breath, they went on to inspect the animal. Ryan was instructed to sit on its back while holding its jaw open. Michael knelt down in front of its open mouth. "Woah. It's exactly the same at the flowers." Michael used a pair of tweezers to pull out samples of teeth. "Look at them. Alligator, shark, even squid teeth. Insane."

"Don't sharks have rows of teeth like that." Jack questioned. Michael nodded.

"Is it some sort of cross breed?" Gavin asked.

"You can't crossbreed between different species." Michael clarified. He stopped picking up samples and was looking deep into the animal's mouth. The red and black bloody mess seemed to be pulling him in like a hypnotic trick.

"Hey, Michael, this thing is getting pretty heavy." Ryan strained. Michael snapped back into reality. He backed away from the creature's open jaw, allowing Ryan to let it fall. With Michael's new samples stored in his bag, and the rest of the team calmed down, they grabbed their supplies and continued to wander into the forest.


	5. Miracle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, as well as future chapters, will include minor references to YDYD, Sky Factory, and Fake AH Crew.

Two row boats cruised through the murky swamp water. Clusters of grass, moss, and fallen flowers floated on the surface. A few of the surrounding trees had patches of multicolored cysts growing on them. Small fish-like creatures swam in the water, darting away as the boats drew closer to them. On the first boat was Jack, Ryan, and Jeremy. Jack sat at the head of the vehicle, his head ducked down as he investigated some recording devices. Ryan and Jeremy were busy rowing. In the boat behind them was Gavin and Michael, rowing in peaceful silence.

As Michael propeld the boat further with his paddle, he felt a throbbing pain in his forearm. He recoiled from the discomfort and stopped rowing. He pulled the sleeve of his uniform back, revealing a fresh purple bruise on his left arm. He gently pressed his thumb on the area, testing the pain.

"You alright?" Gavin piped up from behind.

"Yeah, just a bruise. Must have been from that gator." Michael muttered. He rolled his sleeve back down and continued rowing.

"Maybe, but that thing didn't even get the chance to lay a finger on you. Bloody hell, I never knew you could shoot like that!"

Michael shrugged. "Just a thing a learned when I first moved to Austin. I mostly handled smaller guns, but I've got the basics."

"Interesting. Tell me more, Jersey boy.”

"Well, I was born in Jersey, moved to Texas. Learned how to shoot when I moved here. I lived a sort of 'tough guy' life for a while. Then I eased up, studied biology and botany, met my wife, and settled down."

"Touching story. Bit of a simple background, though. A lot tamer compared to everyone else." Michael turned to look at Gavin behind him with a puzzled expression. "Kidding. Well, not really. Volunteering for something like this isn't something you really do if your life is in perfect harmony. We're all damaged goods here. Just a shot in the dark, but I'm guessing your damage is... your wife?"

"Um... yeah. She's sick. Bedridden. Not sure if she'll ever wake up."

"Sorry to hear that." Gavin consoled. He then tilted his head towards the first boat. "Remember Ryan telling us about his 'anti-social tendencies'? After a quick glance at his record, he apparently attacked two guys at a bar out of nowhere. Left one in the hospital and the other went missing. There were speculations of him doing some dirty work for a local gang, but there was little evidence. He's crazy, and crazy strong, too."

"Jeremy's an even crazier story. He wears long sleeves cause he doesn't want you to see the scars on his forearms. Seems like a red flag for depression, right? An attempted suicide? Nope. He told me himself that in his early twenties he joined a sort of cult. The type that dealt with demon rituals and shit. He'd cut his own arms for 'blood sacrifices'. Later he left and went to see a therapist about the whole thing. He got diagnosed with psychosis and schizophrenia. Poor guy."

Michael let out a deep sigh. He hadn't realized that his teammates had such distressing backstories. He thought losing his wife for a year was the worst it could get. Gangs and demonic cults? He would have never guessed that those were the lives these people have lived.

"And Jack?"

"Yeah, as far as anyone knows. No family, no friends, no partner, no children. He seems... static. Lost. Like he's searching for something. But how should I know? I barely know the guy." Gavin admitted.

"And what about you? We didn't get to spend as much time together at Hopkins, so I never got to find out. What's your damage?"

"Well, like I mentioned before, I got kicked out of Hopkins for nearly blowing it up, then I got a job here. But that time between not having school or a job was, to say the least, not good for me. I lived alone in a shite little apartment. I was desperate, so I joined Southern Reach, and soon I met Ryan and Jeremy and they were nice company. And y'know what? When I signed up for this mission, I thought I was signing up for suicide. I thought I would die out here with only three acquaintances for comfort. But then when you walked up to our table that day, I knew that this suicide mission wouldn't be so shit. It was like... a miracle."

Michael couldn't say a word. He was too starstruck by Gavin's response to say anything. When he had asked the question, he had expected some sort of joke, the sort of joke that Gavin would usually give in this scenario. But Gavin's response had made Michael feel like something important. He wasn't just a guy signing up for death with four other strangers. He made a difference in someone's life. Even if this mission ended up like the others, if Michael never saw Lindsay again, he had supposedly tilted Gavin's world, and that was everything to Michael. He stopped rowing for a moment and turned to look at Gavin. His eyes were a mesmerizing hazel, with dark round pupils. Their eyes were locked for a solid moment until Ryan called out to them from the first boat.

"Hey! We've got something over here." The pair of boats turned a corner in the river onto a dock. In the distance was an abandoned building surrounded by a chain link fence. The area was overgrown with moss, grass, and other undefined plants. The group stopped their boats at the dock and climbed onto dry land. They passed through the main gate and walked toward the building.

"This used to be the old headquarters of Southern Reach. At least, before the shimmer swallowed it up." Jack determined.

As they drew closer, they noticed that the walls of the building were covered in the same colorful cysts as the trees from the river.

"More mutations." Michael pointed out. "They're like tumors."

"Isn't that the old mess hall?" Gavin asked, pointing towards an adjacent structure.

"Yeah," Jack answered. "Let build up camp there. C'mon." The rest of the group followed Jack into the building. The mess hall was almost empty except for a few tables and chairs stacked in a corner as well as a couple of sleeping bags and leftover supplies, most probably left behind from the last groups. The five wandered around the room, inspecting the deserted supplies. Ryan picked up a gun that laid on top of one of the supply piles. It was larger and heavier than the guns given to their group.

Michael's eye caught a glimpse of something that sparked his attention. Against one of the walls was a chalkboard. Drawn on it was a layout of the headquarters and beside it was a list of names and times. _Trevor. Alfredo. Matt. Fiona. Lindsay._ Michael felt his stomach plunge as he read the last name. His wide, startled eyes and utter silence must have been a strange sight, because Ryan was suddenly next to him, a questioning look on his face.

"What did you find, Michael?" 

Michael was forced back to reality. Still slightly shaken up, he called the other members over to the board. The others read the names on the board as well. "Those are the names of the members of the last group. They must have used the headquarters as a base of operations," Jack explained. 

"Why are some of the names crossed out?" Jeremy pondered. Another glance at the board revealed that two of the names were crossed out, Matt and Fiona. A haunting silence filled the room. 

"Let's not start jumping to conclusions," Gavin reasoned, though his tone sounded as anxious as Jeremy looked. 

"I don't know. Maybe we should," Michael grimaced. "By the looks of the times next to each of the names and their correlations on the map, it looks like they were guarding the perimeter. We should, too." Ryan, Jeremy, and Gavin nodded in agreement. Jack had split apart from the group and was wandering over to a table near the center of the room. 

"This might be able to tell us something," Jack announced, holding up a plastic baggie with a small capsule inside. He unzipped the bag and grabbed the object from inside. The others had already gathered around the table. Jeremy pulled out a camera from his bag and took the object from Jack. "It's a memory card. I should be able to play this." He opened up the camera and slotted the card inside. The screen was illuminated white, then faded into a grainy video. A woman's voice could be heard behind the camera. The only one in the room who recognized the voice was Michael. 

"It's recording," said Lindsay. The room she was in was dark, the only light source being a flashlight someone off camera was holding. A man with long, ungroomed hair and skewed glasses was sitting in a shallow pool of water. He looked panicked and was breathing heavily. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but his eyes appeared to be glowing a deep red. 

"Roll your sleeve up," ordered an unknown man's voice. The long haired man rolled up his tan sleeve, revealing his arm which was a sickly shade of green. It looked as if his arm was covered in third-degree burns. The wrinkled and glossy unnatural texture grew from the tips of his fingers and past his forearm. Another man crouched down next to the green-armed man. He had glistening black hair and brandished a knife in his hand. He signaled for the man to extend his arm, but the panicked look on the man's face grew. A third man, one that looked vaguely similar to that other except with tanner skin, appeared on the screen and sat on the other side of the man. He patted his shoulder in a comforting manner and pleaded with him to present his arm. Eventually, with a lot of coaxing, the man extended his green arm towards the man with the knife. The black-haired man took the other's arm and began slicing through the skin with the knife. The breathing of the green-armed man became erratic and fast, combined with a few hysterical laughs and groans of pain. The man beside him was holding him still.

The five men watched in horror as the green arm was sliced open. The skin was unusually thick for human skin. After a deep layer of sickly green skin was the muscle, which was even worse. It was a greenish-brown shade, almost rotten. The man with the knife stopped cutting and used his thumb to reveal more of the innards. A nest of maggots were swarming inside. Gavin was forced to back away from the camera to vomit in a corner of the mess hall. Out of instinct, Jeremy shut the camera closed. The remaining members backed away from the table, catching their breaths.

"Well, we know what happened to the last group. They went fucking insane." Ryan affirmed.

"That guy's arm was... rotting." Gavin croaked, still sick from the video.

"It was probably a trick of the light."

"Ryan, his skin was literally green. And his insides, they were-" Jeremy argued but was then cut off.

"Listen, guys. I lived in a pretty rough city before I moved here. I've seen people cut right before my eyes, and I've seen some crazy shit. T-that was a trick of the light!" Ryan countered. From the tone of his voice and the fact he was sweating bullets, it seemed he was trying to convince himself more than the others.

"Then watch it again, Ryan." Jack suggested.

"No, I am _not_ fucking watching that shit again!" Ryan seethed. He was visibly shaking. He backed away from the rest, rubbing at his arm anxiously. From the corner of his eye he noticed Michael wandering down a hallway. "Where are you going?" He asked. When no response came, the rest of the group followed him. They found Michael in an abandoned indoor pool. He was standing at the deep end, analyzing the wall before him. It was overgrown with cysts, similar to those outside, except these were a nauseating shade of green and brown. They seemed to branch out like an open palm. Clusters of maggots and other pests could be seen crawling about the branches. The smell enough was revolting. Gavin, once again, hurled in a corner.

"What the fuck is this?" Ryan fretted. Jeremy and Jack joined Michael in the deep zone to inspect further. The shorter man felt something nudge his foot in the shallow pool of water. He bent over to pick up the unknown object. It was a knife.

A knife very similar to the one in the video.

He dropped it back into the water. His breathing instantly became rapid and hysterical. The hand that picked up the knife was shaking at an alarming rate. "I don't think I can stay here tonight." He whimpered.

"We have no choice. It's too late in the day to move any further." Jack deadpanned.

Ryan, who seemed to be the only group member to notice Jeremy's sudden violent panic, latched onto his arm and pulled him out of the room. The two made their way to an open window where Ryan made Jeremy sit down on the window sill. The shorter man was still panting and quivering. "I don't think I can do this Ry. God dammit! I can't, I-"

"Jeremy, listen to me," Ryan began, dropping to his knee in front of the other man. "I know you're scared. We're all scared and confused right now. But we _need_ to keep our heads. If we start panicking and freaking out, we'll end up like those people in the video. We're gonna pull through this, we just need to be smart about all this. It's going to be fine, Jeremy."

Jeremy's breathing was starting to ease up, but his body was still shaking slightly. "Ryan," Jeremy quavered. "If... if I ever end up like that guy in the video. All sick and rotting and-"

"Jeremy, you won't-"

"Just... don't, please don't cut me open. Take me out with a bullet or something, I just don't want it to hurt. Promise?" Jeremy looked into Ryan's tired blue eyes.

Ryan wanted to argue further that Jeremy wouldn't get sick and thus he would never have to kill him, but he was too exhausted and Jeremy was too shaken up. "I promise, J." He pulled the other man in for a short embrace, then stood up. He made his way towards the hallway, claiming that he wanted to check up on the others. Jeremy remained seated on the window sill, looking out at the bushed of strange yet beautiful flowers.

Once Ryan was sure Jeremy was distracted and he was alone in the hallway, he rolled up his sleeve. There, a little spot in the center of his forearm, was a deep black and purple bruise. Except is wasn't a bruise, because it was spreading.

**Author's Note:**

> The screenplay for Annihilation was written by Alex Garland, which I used heavily for this chapter. The later chapters will diverge slightly from the original source.


End file.
